


BLESS YOU

by SupernaturallyEgocentric



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:01:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturallyEgocentric/pseuds/SupernaturallyEgocentric
Summary: Dean doesn't mind getting shot. Or stabbed. Or cursed. Or any of the other little things that happen along. But getting a little case of the common cold? That's a whole different deal.





	

SUPNSUPNSUPNSUPNSUPN

 

Dean sneezed wetly and pulled another tissue out of the near-empty box. 

He blew his nose, then dropped the soggy tissue into the trash can next to the couch. 

“This sucks,” he said moodily. “Sucks.”

Sam looked up from his laptop. “What?”

Dean started to answer, then, grumbling, pulled out another tissue and blew so hard he made himself dizzy. “Everything,” he finally croaked. 

“Oh.” Sam looked back down at his laptop, gritting his teeth. “It’s your fault.” Dean collapsed back onto his pillow. “All your fault.”

“I told you not to drink my beer,” Sam said, trying to stay calm. “I told you I thought I was getting a cold. So what did you do? 

You drank it. How is that my fault?”

“I was drunk!” Dean whined. “You should have stopped me!” 

Sam sighed. “Yeah, like I could.”

The study was quiet for a few precious minutes, but for the clicking of the laptop’s keys.

“You didn’t even get all the way sick,” Dean said resentfully.

Sam shut the laptop with a sharp click and rubbed at the ache forming at his temples. “Dean, you spent forty years in Hell. How can you be this whiny about a damned cold?” 

Dean scowled and turned his face away. “I wish Cas were here.”

Wish freaking granted.

The angel appeared with a sudden rush of wings. “Dean, you called –” He frowned and started toward the couch at the sight of his friend’s damp, pallid face. “What’s wrong?” 

“Cas!” Dean’s voice was weak with relief. “Dude! Stupid Sam gave me his cold!”

Cas stopped. His lips turned down. His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Dean. I can’t help you.” 

“What?” Dean was stricken. “Why not?”

“Angels can do many things,” Cas said regretfully. “But even we can’t cure the common cold.”


End file.
